


Heads and Tails

by BloodunderMoonlight



Series: In Another World [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Will Graham, Dark Will Graham, Don't copy to another site, First Kiss, First Time, Jealous Will Graham, Jealousy, Love/Hate, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mirror Sex, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Season/Series 02, Top Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-09-27 14:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20409484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodunderMoonlight/pseuds/BloodunderMoonlight
Summary: Will could argue that killing people and having sex with Hannibal were parts of his plan to lure and catch the killer, but could he say that falling in love with Hannibal was also a part of his plan?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [BeesAreAwesome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeesAreAwesome) for being my beta!

#  
  
It would be easier if you knew how to feel.

The man knelt by the fallen hammer and the gutted horse with a plea of innocent in dripping blood. This desperate surrender could make him look innocuous enough in the others' eyes, but what Will saw was a traitor, the pliable look on Hannibal when the killer had faced his fury coiling in the same dark hole. The proud, undefeatable killer flinched and shut his eyes in the enticing vulnerability, but it gave Will no gratification. It was a challenge—a tease—daring him to destroy a powerless life and mocking him that he still tried hard to cling to a thin sprig on the clifftop when it was much easier to let go.

Though Will would argue it was not the morality holding him.

The gun sound would be an announcement of the cannibal's victory, and his giving up would be a consent for the devil to sow more seeds in his brain and lead him astray further. Letting go or waiting for the twig to let him down; no matter if this night or that, there was no actual choice left for him. No avail to struggle.

Hesitation had left him as well as his hope.

"Pick up the hammer," he said, advancing on the social worker with a warning click covering Hannibal's call. "Pick it up.”

"It won't feel the same, Will." Hannibal stepped closer to him. His dissuasion sounded like a wicked whisper, which solely shoved more hot coal into Will's chest. "It won't feel like killing me."

"It doesn't have to."

"You did the best anyone could do for Peter, but do not do this for him. If you are going to do this, Will...you have to do it for yourself."

He did not care. It did not matter even if it would send him back to the jail he had barely escaped from, even if it was not killing his own betrayer, even if it was not for himself. None of these mattered. He wanted justice. Revenge. Someone like this man—someone like Hannibal; a hypocrite, a traitor, a monster—should be punished in the deepest hell for eternity.

"Will." Hannibal called him once again, trying to control him like each time he asked him to repeat the old mantra. "It is not the reckoning you promised yourself."

Enough.

That was enough.  
  
He was not a puppet. He was not someone's toy. He would not let anyone play him again.

Will pulled the trigger, but the discordant sound and stinking smell expected were strangled in Hannibal's hand. Hannibal pushed down the hammer and his wrist, coaxing him to let go with the tender strokes no one could have the will to resist. That was it. The last breeze to lure him down.

Will loosened his fingers in the wave of calmness. He watched the darkness come. The gun slipped away from his grip like the last grain of his humanity.

"With all my knowledge and intrusion, I could never entirely predict you," Hannibal said in pleasure, assessing Will behind his lowered lashes, as if Will was a newly polished and unblemished gem made for him only.

Will's instinct screamed at him and urged him to flee from the hungry gaze of the predator, but he found himself fixated with Hannibal's reaching hand. The cold and mercilessness he anticipated turned out to be a warm current of gentleness landing on his clenched jaw, too soft and overwhelming to his isolated and forsaken heart. His heart quivered like a weak deer; his anger dissipated like a dry ice. He shuddered slightly under the massage on his scalp, succumbing to this hateful intimacy like a helpless stray.

Hannibal's breath brushed his lips with the softness of a kiss. Their breath melted into a damp and chaotic cycle. Their thoughts mixed like drops of ink, no longer distinguishable from each other.

Evil and good. Ugliness and beauty. Hatred and love. All the boundaries had begun to blur.

"I can feed the caterpillar, whisper through the chrysalis, but what hatches follows its own nature and is beyond me."

The smile hooked Will's gaze to the uncovered pride and adoration rippling in Hannibal's eyes.  
  
Hannibal wanted someone who could see him, understand him, and would stand by his side. He wanted Will. He was hell-bent on getting him even if he could break him. That would be his greatest weakness. However, Will had no chance to win this game either. His heart had already fallen long ago.

"You are a light shining in the dark." Will focused on the abysses in those eyes— he wondered why he had missed it thousands of times—the antlered beast looked back in the darkness, burning with intense feelings for him. "Bright and warm. You disguise yourself as a harmless, benign sunlight, yet you are a flame waiting to devour innocent lives drawn by your glow."

"Fire destroys and creates," Hannibal said with a wider smile. The pointed teeth evinced themselves between his thin lips. "You have been reborn from the ashes of your former self."

Will had left the cell like a butterfly shedding its old skin. The unstable, broken puppy he had used to be was dead at the very moment he made his act to kill Hannibal.

Will wanted to chide that it was Hannibal torturing him to death, but his empathy said in the man's voice—fueling the encephalitis to burn his sanity, taking everyone away from him, and forcing him to embrace the darkness flourishing madly in his heart, all the infliction was meant to help him grow. It was as natural as a mother shoving her young away from the milk, as natural as a vulture pushing her chicks out of their nest. It was not harm or betrayal. It was a necessary evil.

Unable to summon his hate, Will turned his face away and left to call Jack.

Ingram argued and fought under the force and the flashing lights, staring at Peter who cowered altogether.

Only silence echoed in the car.

Will imagined darkness. Muffled heartbeats and warm water. A womb. The belly of a beast. The rebirth he had made when he had crawled himself out as a black, bloodied fawn roaring at the night sky.

He wiped off the haunting vision with a blink.

They pushed Ingram into the car. A long incarceration and a painless death were waiting for him.

"I regret what I did." Will tightened his fists on his thighs.

"You were lucky I was there," Hannibal said. Having no interest in what was happening in front of them, his eyes focused on Will solely.

"No, no." Will rubbed off the twinging smirk on his face. His wet palm smelled of metal; of blood. The tangible border between life and death had been so close to his finger. "I regret letting you stop me."

Hannibal studied him for a few seconds. "You must be aware that killing a suspect without a fair trial is a murder, regardless of how guilty they look. Is it truly the justice you are seeking?"

"Justice is not what I want now." Will met Hannibal's eyes which were darkened in the flickering shadows. Swaying light. Invading tube.

"What do you want?" The devil tilted his crown of antlers.

Will flexed his hand near his gun holster. "Revenge."

"On someone else." The reproach sounded absurdly envious. Still Hannibal's face showed nothing. "Is it worth it? You just left the prison. Are you planning to go back, to let us down?"

"'Us'? Who?" Will glared. Words left his teeth like a heavy, bitter smoke. "Jack? You made him throw me in jail. Beverly? You killed her. And Alana? You _fuck_ her. You fuck everyone I get close to."

"Will, I have told you—"

Will punched the car door. "Stop. This. Gibberish."

Hannibal stared at Will's fist, the urge to take it into his palm and soothe away the pain rose in his eyes, but he remained composed. "What kind of answer do you want to hear then?"

Will turned to the light outside which faded with the piercing alarm and left them in the engulfing night. What did he want? He wanted Hannibal to whine, to scream under his tightening hands. He wanted Hannibal to touch his cheeks, to stroke his hair with the tenderness he craved. He chewed his bottom lip and finally let his hoarse voice slip out. "Admission. I want you to admit what you are."

"Must I denounce myself as a monster while you still refuse to see the one growing inside you?"

It poked his darkness to churn in his chest. He refused to respond.

The ride was voiceless like the night. Will peered through the glass blankly. Beyond his pale ghost, the lifeless branches of the trees twisted into a stag galloping and purring with the car. His gaze followed the reflection of the devil with rapt attention. It led him back to his stream.

When Hannibal stopped accompanying him before the lit porch and was ready to leave, Will liberated his voice eventually. "Do you want a drink?"

Hannibal gauged him from the dark, likely to see if the invitation was offered merely out of politeness. Will would say so if Hannibal asked—he had never permitted Hannibal to get into his house and near his pack since he had discovered the man's true nature—thought what drove him to invite the killer in was something impulsive and irrational even he himself could not fathom.

"It's ok to say no if you feel it is a trap." Will shifted his weight for the uncomfortable silence and turned his back to Hannibal, somewhere between fear and bravery.

The shoes clicked the wooden floor behind him, followed by an amused hum before he changed his mind. "How could I decline such a generous offer?"

Will puffed. He opened the door to let the beast in.

The dogs who had been scratching at the other side of the door surrounded them instantly. Pure and blissfully unaware of the devil's true face, all of them except Winston pointed their curious noses at Hannibal to search for sausages, who only patted their heads lightly after closing the door at his back.

"No, no more treat from him." Will chased the dogs away, amazed and vexed that Hannibal had successfully bribed them with human meat. "But if you like the taste that much, I won't mind if you bite off his fingers. Must be as tasty as the sausages he brought." He threw a sharp glimpse at Hannibal, whose innocent look annoyed him further.

"You cannot encourage your dogs to attack humans, Will. They would be put down if they did so."

"They _should_ be. No thanks to you." Stuffing his gloves into his coat pocket, Will stepped into the kitchen for a bottle of whiskey and two glasses with Hannibal following him to the doorframe. "And I should be too. A poor, broken puppy now has become a mad dog barking at something they can't see." He closed the cabinet with a loud thud before pouring the alcohol. His back blocked Hannibal's view of his movements.

Hannibal did not comment on his mutter. "You have refurbished your kitchen."

"Evidently." Will tilted back the bottle.

"One's house often represents their inner self. You, too, are under changes."

"There's been too much change. I did it just because I don't want to remember the ear in my sink." Will stared at the rim of one of the cups, and he tapped it once, twice. White, vicious powder fell into the golden liquid in his mind. He whirled around and pushed the glass to Hannibal. It scraped the countertop with the extra weight.

Hannibal approached the island with his habitually calculated steps. He wrapped his elegant fingers around the glass which suddenly looked as fragile as a human neck. Will swallowed dryly when Hannibal brought it up. Alcohol wetted the tugged lips. Adam's apple slid in Hannibal's throat.

The poison would be fast. It would sweep into the blood, blow his pupils, and drag him onto the ground within seconds. Hannibal would look at Will, disbelieved, betrayed, grabbing his hands and choking out his name in his final breath—

"You are fantasizing my death."

Will raised his cold gaze from Hannibal's throat to his eyes.

Hannibal gave him a patient smile. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"We are not in our sessions, Doctor."

"We are merely having conversations." Hannibal tailed him back to the living room, not allowing him to leave his sight a second. Will suspected that the killer would suppress the need to blink every time he looked at him.

"Normal conversations don't involve the topic of murdering someone." Will flopped onto a chair by the windowsill where he exhibited his new set of lures. He had made sure there was no human flesh in them. Still, the floating corpses haunted him in whichever river he went.

"Consider it an unconventional conversation." Hannibal chose the chair across him, eyeing him deeply. "We both are unconventional men."

Will laughed and leaned against the back of the chair, touching his lips as he tried to hide them. "Unconventional in which way?"

"Many." Hannibal smiled with him. "Worldview. Personality. Interest."

"Interest." Will repeated it in a whisper. His lips remained parted even after the last syllable melted in the heated air. "I thought of drugging you." He sipped and surveyed the whiskey. "It would be ironic if you died because of what you ate."

Hannibal hummed behind the glass. "Not directly by your hands."

"Disappointed, Doctor Lecter?"

"Are you?" Hannibal returned the smirk, raising his index finger in a lecturing way. "There is only one chance to kill me. I do hope you would choose the most satisfying way to take my life."

Alcohol had made Will's sound husky. "Would you let me do whatever I wanted to do with you?"

"Do I do so in your fantasies?"

"Yes." He was not afraid to admit, unlike the killer grinning at him through the enshrouding veil.

"You want to dominate me, but you do not have the awareness of how much power you already have over me."

The remote, yet vivid, memory of Hannibal looking at him with tears of relief flashed in Will's mind. He licked his lips with acute consciousness of how keenly Hannibal was ogling them. "Don't I?"

Hannibal's phone vibrated. Rude. Who dared to call near midnight and in the middle of their conversation?

"Who is that?"

"Alana."

The word rolled off Hannibal's tongue. It was not a name. It was a spell. It was the right string to pull. Will's body reacted way before he could realize; he drew out his gun and pointed it at Hannibal's forehead, breathing heavily in the soaring wrath.

Alana. Why did he lay his claws on her? Why did he choose her over him? Was she worthy of him? Could she understand him? Could she accept what he really was?

"Will—"

"Pick it up." He pushed down the hammer. "Turn on the speaker. Tell her she doesn't deserve you. Tell her all these were meaningless hookups."

"It is not the way to protect her."

Will pressed the gun against Hannibal's glabella, finger trembling on the cold trigger. He could end it without effort. All it needed was a pull. A pull and the blood and flesh would erupt from Hannibal's skull like a brilliant rain of confetti, celebrating his success in cleansing the world. But at this moment it was not Hannibal's blood he wanted to see.

"Do it."

Hannibal swiped the screen without tearing his eyes off from Will.

"Hello." He avoided calling Alana's name this time, but it helped nothing with Will's rage which was spurred higher by the sweet tone in Alana's greeting.

"Hi, Hannibal. I'm wondering where you are now."

Hannibal waited for instructions from Will, who said nothing. "I just left the scene. We have caught the killer."

"Great! I am nearby. Can I come over? We can celebrate it with beer."

Will's gun pressed harder, forcing Hannibal to lean backwards.

"Alana, there is something I must tell you." Hannibal continued holding their gazes. Glint of amusement swam in his eyes. "I have been thinking about us, about our relationship. I think it is better if we stop and take a step back. We could still be colleagues and friends."

"What, what happened? You aren't someone that would easily start and end a relationship."

"Nothing happened. Only wrong circumstance. Wrong decisions. Funerals make us want sex, as you said."

"So this is just funeral sex?" Alana's voice rose in anger and pain, but nonchalance was all she got.

"You are a beautiful and attractive woman, but you are not the one I am looking for. I would apologize if my impetuous acts hurt you—"

Will snatched away the phone, he cannot even stand one more second to let Hannibal say a proper goodbye. He hung it up, deleted all the messages, and tossed the phone onto the windowsill after turning it off. He nearly missed, though he did not care.

Alana was still there like a detestable spectre. Her voice echoed in Hannibal's ears. Her warmth lingered on Hannibal's lips.

"You are jealous."

Will winced inside. "Am I?"

"It is the third time you have pointed your gun at me, and the only time you have done so not because you believe I am the Ripper." Hannibal perched his elbows on his thighs, soothing and cornering. "Humans are a master of deception. However, their scents could not lie. Each emotion has a unique smell. There is a burnt smell similar to anger radiating from you, mixed with a strong, acidic bitterness. You are jealous."  
  
Will cursed Hannibal's damn sensitive nose. "Of whom?"

"Alana." Hannibal watched Will grip the glass harder. "You said that she does not deserve me rather than that I do not deserve her."

"I am merely stating a fact." Will gulped down all the liquor, which only pained his aching throat. "She doesn't know what you are, and she will never accept what you are."

"You know what I am, Will. Will you accept what I am?"

Will continued staring at his knees despite the hope exuded in Hannibal's voice. "You took her because you want to take everything away from me, so you will be the only one I can trust and rely on. You have no feelings for her. You don't even find her attractive." He attempted to reason with, to convince himself, but it was a wild wish he did not even believe would come true. Alana was a lovely, perfect woman. He had nothing that could compare to her—

"No one in this world has the same attractiveness you have to me."

The touch with the coaxing blazed Will, making him recoil instantly. He glanced up with his cheeks and hand burnt. Dimness veiled Hannibal's countenance, but his mask was nowhere to be seen.

Will's heart thumped on his ribs furiously like a caged bird.

"Since...when?"

He had suspected. He had _hoped_.

He had hoped the doctor would have at least a slight interest in him; he had imagined one day their relationship would develop further and deeper than two friends would have; he had dreamt to be in his arms, to touch him, to kiss him.

He knew it was unethical, wrong, impossible, but he could not stop hoping.

Hannibal was a devouring fire, a black hole, and he was a trapped moth, a light had been drawn past the point of no return without even realizing when. Was it the day they both thought each other had died? Was it the moment he saw Hannibal resting beside Abigail's bed? Or was it the first time he laid his eyes on him?

"Since the first day we met." Hannibal reached for his hand again.

Will did not flinch, but the warmth enclosing him shook the very core of his soul. He shattered and melted and reformed.

"I...remember you drugging me," he said, unmovable, captivated. "I remember you pushing her ear into my throat. Did you force anything else on me?"

"I am not a rapist, Will. I would never force it, especially on someone I love."

"Love" sounded like a breath of fire from the beast's mouth.

Will withdrew eventually.

It was a beast. A cruel, heartless beast. His words tasted like honey but were poisonous opium.

"Is framing them a way of love?"

"Is threatening them with a gun a way of love?"

Will turned away. "It isn't love."

"Yes, love is not what is driving you to kill me. It is what’s pulling your finger back from the trigger. Not morality. Not god."

"There is no god." Will rose, pacing to the window for the cooler air. "Killing is not a problem to me. Not anymore. It is what you want. Break me, mold me, change me."

"I see a great potential in you." Hannibal came behind him. Their reflections merged into a phantom. The heat was too close that it invaded his back. The breath was too hot that it lighted his nape. "I want you to be my equal, Will."

The snow ceased. The winds froze.

"Hunger and loneliness." Will put down the glass and turned to face Hannibal, his voice weaker than a sigh, half hoping it would be devoured by the gloom before it could reach Hannibal's ears. "What is the difference between them?"

Hannibal held his gaze longingly. "You would not want to eat your companion."

"But you want to." Will pounced. His hands found Hannibal's lapels, and his lips met Hannibal's mouth.

Hannibal went stiff in surprise. Will caught the opportunity and used his teeth to fight, but Hannibal caged him into a hug, cocooning his fierce hatred with deep gentleness which he yielded to within a second. He shivered, sobbed under the brushes on his lips and the caresses on his cheeks.

It was completely different from the kisses he had had with women. Hannibal's lips tasted sweet and spicy, soft and dominating. Will went powerless under them, parting his own in a daze for the man to take him throughout, though Hannibal seemed content after having only a taste of his lips. It felt impossible for Will to breathe when they were parted.

Hannibal's name rose from Will’s throat. He grabbed the man's scarred wrist, almost begging.

Hannibal returned and stroked his cheek, thumb tracing the curve of his lower lip. "Are you looking for a clutch for balance again, Will?"

Will avoided the heated gaze and buried his face on Hannibal's shoulder. He was upset, yes, but not unstable. Not anymore.

"It feels like a bad parody. Peter and I. Ingram and you... You hurt me. You betrayed me. But I can't force myself to kill you." He recoiled quickly, as if he finally realized he was touching a flame. "You should go now. It's late."

It only drew Hannibal to him like a hooked fish. "Will you put me into a horse?"

Will stepped back, not out of the fear of the killer but the fear of losing control again and forever. "A deer, perhaps."

Hannibal quirked up his charming lips at Will's mumble. Will had to look away to stay still.

Hannibal advanced. "Will you decide my fate like how you decided Ingram's?"

"No one can change or decide fate." Will pressed his lips into a thin line. "Like how we were brought together. I worked for Jack, Jack worried the case could break me so he found Alana, but Alana wanted to maintain our friendship so she recommended you, as you were her mentor and colleague. I could not change any of these things. They are a series of events—a combination of coincidence and inevitability."

He went back to the kitchen for a refill, and Hannibal trailed him and stopped at the doorway again like a vampire. Will did hope the river in his mind could deter the devil.

"You can when you are the first domino," Hannibal said. "You can decide which direction to fall or not to fall at all."

"A domino doesn't fall automatically. It needs a push, a wind, or a vibration of the floor. And when it comes, it can't prevent itself from falling. Free will, likewise, depends on the past and circumstances." Will put down the glass, rubbing the knot between his brows. "You should go now."

"I hope I did not overstay your welcome." Hannibal bowed his head. "Good night, Will."

Will waited for the sound of the car faded like ripples and tramped back to the living room, dropping himself onto the chair. He fumbled out a coin from his pants pocket and studied its craft.

"If it is that simple," he mumbled and flipped the coin.

Heads.

Though he had yet to determine what heads or tails implied.  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

#   
  
The beautiful beast swathed in the cloak of night stepped out from the unbreakable shadows of the dense woods with a puff. Moonlight shined upon its feathers, casting a vague shadow of branches on the snow.

Pungent whiffs of the thriving fungi and winter berries vanished in its mind. Twisting its nose at the soft headwinds, it focused intently at the fresh smells from a bright glade not far ahead. Fire lit its eyes.

Its instinctive fear inherited from the ancient time and buried deep in its brain soared as soon as the blazing light struck, urging its hooves to bring it back to the safe and comfortable darkness, but another comparable need that always overpowered the fear flooded its chest as well. Hunger. The primal urge of a predator, strong and compulsive that would drive it to kill once it was provoked.

Those two wandering, unguarded humans were irresistible meals to it.

The beast exhaled with impatience in Will's ear.

There was no collar or leash binding the beast. It was an untamable animal which only listened to its own will. Will had no way to stop it, and had no reason to stop it.

It stayed nonetheless. They watched the couple wander closer.

The man stopped; he spotted them. Fear swirled in the air like hot steam from an oven.

The beast growled.

"Kill."

The giant stag sprinted through the trees and across the snow with the afterimage of death. It leaped. It assailed the man with its antlers, penetrating and pinning his torso onto the ground under the exploded goose down and ribbons of blood. The woman screamed but not for long. The reign of silence returned when the branches tore her throat. The boiling blood splashed over the snow and into the bonfire, melting, sizzling.

Will stared. The beast was gone. Blood drizzled down from his antlers to his chin.

"We've interviewed Randall Tier." Will started after staring at Hannibal a long while. The devil looked like a normal human being under the daylight. He had no idea what he had expected to find and could not find anything either. Why did Hannibal provide his protégé's name to Jack that eagerly? He knew clearly that Randall Tier was the culprit. Was it another betrayal? Were all his patients only disposable pawns to him?

Hannibal remained his clam expression under Will's burning gaze. He asked with genuine curiosity, "What did he say?"

Will took a last glimpse of Hannibal's face before ensconcing his eyes back on the paisley tie. "He said he was much better now. That mental illness was treatable. He is a success story."

Hannibal tilted his head at Will's flat response. "You believe he is innocent?"

Oh, no, no. He was definitely not.

Will had only needed a glance, his darkness resonating strongly with the others' now that it had only taken him a look to catch the same bestial being hidden under Tier's human skin.

"I believe your_ therapy_ was successful." He gave a twisted laugh. "You can be persuasive."

He listened to the still air between them, finding ripples from the past. Were they all the same? Was the devil playing the same game over and over again? Was there anyone who had ever fought back before?

"Persuasion is not coercion," Hannibal said.

"It is when you only leave one choice to me. To us." Will grabbed the armrests, nails scraping the leather as if clawing at Hannibal's throat. His weighty breath echoed in the room. He forced his hands to stretch. "How many have there been? Like Randall Tier? Like me?"

Hannibal caught Will's burning irises. He risked getting burnt by his rage, looking straight into his heart. "You are unique, Will."

Fortresses constructed and crumbled under the words. Will's gaze fled to the floor. He conjured a river between them, trying to use the rapids to stop the devil from encroaching on his mind. "I wonder how many times you have said it to your patients."

Hannibal studied the glint in Will's eyes. He approached with mild tones. "Hera is a motherly yet wrathful goddess. She has no morality when punishing her husband's lovers and illegitimate offspring. She has cursed helpless women into horrid beasts and tortured innocent children to death. Jealousy has turned her into a monster worse than Empusa."

Will's lashes fluttered, but he kept his eyes down. "It is a poor woman trying to maintain her failing marriage. I see no problem with that."

"Even if it involves killing?" Hannibal almost purred.

"It is not her fault but her disloyal husband's."

"It is also not the fault of those women and children." Hannibal uncrossed his legs and leaned forth, studying Will's face closely. "Zeus has hurt her and will hurt her again and again. Why doesn't she punish him instead?"_ Why don't you kill me instead?_

Will bit his tongue. No, he was not going to give Hannibal what he wanted that easily. "Cupid carries the golden arrow of love and the lead arrow of hate. Love can be mixed with hate, turned into hate, and changed back from hate for no reason."

Hannibal smiled. His eyes surveyed Will's lips as if gauging how much hate and how much love had been there when Will had kissed him. "I have no feelings to them. Those were before you."

"And there will be more after me." Will stood and turned his face to the windows, but the magnetic attraction drew his gaze back the next moment. He never had the strength to escape. "How can I trust an unfaithful man with my heart?"

Hannibal looked at him in awe. "Don't you believe you could change me?"

Will's breath hitched for the affection bestowed upon him unreservedly. People usually looked at him with cruel curiosity, pity, or fear; none of them had ever looked at him with such affection, not even Alana, not even his parents. However Hannibal was capable of turning an innocent person who would never hurt an ant into a cold-blooded murderer with his blandishments, he could also feign it to lure him. "I... ." His gaze darted and brushed on Hannibal's lips. "I believe...in actions over words."

To his disappointment, Hannibal only replied, "Of course. You are a man of action."

  
The hair on Will's nape bristled in the humming air before the pack barked in alertness. There was no car light or sound. It could be coyotes or wolves, though Will had never encountered them directly. The smells of the dogs and the bright light blazing behind the windows were enough to deter the wild creatures from approaching the house. They only dared to watch at the edge of the woods, yet nothing was there now, not even a shadow or a howl.

Will passed through the pack which barked louder at the invisible being. He shushed them and opened the front door to have a better look. It was a mistake.

The brown and white furball rushed out from the corner of his eye, he was not fast enough to grab a single hair, the dog had already run beyond the light and disappeared between the trees. Damn reckless terrier.

"Buster!"

Will dashed out with his rifle. He yelled madly but the winds carrying the scent of danger muffled all the sounds.

The paw prints faded gradually in the dark. Will lost the tracks right after he entered the woods. He searched the ground and brushes, but to no avail. He risked drawing the attacker's attention to himself and called out again. A whine penetrated the night. He followed it instantly, his gun almost slipped away from his trembling hands, and the snow nearly tripped him down. Fear seized his heart as the moonlight revealed streaks of blood and the motionless body of the dog.

"Buster!" Will stumbled forth. His legs wobbled and dropped him onto the ground. He reached to touch the bloodied fur, relieved when the dog's chest rose and fell with a small, pained yelp. Buster was yet alive.

Will shushed and patted Buster gently. The wounds were fortunately minor, but they were made by teeth, by something larger than a wolf. A skeleton. A beast. A newborn like him.

Will's gaze locked at the phantom between the trees. He hoisted up the dog and ran back.

The devil's spokesman trailed him.

Light died. Darkness shrouded the world.

  
The sliding door broke the silence Will had been submerged in. He raised his gaze from the dining table which had served myriads of gourmet dishes and now where Randall Tier lay as a grand centerpiece. An offering.

He would have wrapped the gift nicely like the first kill Hannibal had made for him if he had found a deer head, but his mentor seemed content enough, his sanguine eyes filled with pride. The violence in that look threatened to rival the most tempestuous sea.

The anger gripping his heart unraveled once again. He hated it. He hated himself for being softened with such frequency by the man he hated.

"I'd say this makes us even." Will lifted his chin as the door closed and cut off the rest of the world from them. "I sent someone to kill you, you sent someone to kill me. Even-Steven."

Hannibal nodded slightly with his gaze darting between Will and the corpse as if he could not decide which he should look at. "Consider it an act of reciprocity."

It was rather a gift. Someone he wanted to kill and would enjoy to kill. A perfect prey.

"Polite society normally puts such taboos on taking a life."

"Without death, we would be at a loss. It is the prospect of death that drives us to greatness." Hannibal stepped to the table, admiring the ruthless twist on Randall's neck. "Did you kill him with your hands?"

Will raised his grazed hand. The congealed blood appeared dark in the heavy dimness. "It was...intimate."

"It deserves intimacy." Hannibal went to him, holding his hand gently as if soothing a fearful chick, as if a rougher touch would leave horrible bruises and scrapes on his skin. The cruelty Hannibal had shown in his eyes while watching Will squirm behind the bars and between desire and morality no longer existed. All he had was gentleness when he dipped Will's hand in the warm water, too intense that Will needed to pin his gaze down to not get scorched by it.

It was too close. Too hot.

Remember the tragedy of Icarus.

Unfortunately, all winged creatures were driven by the strong instinct to chase the light. He was no exception.

"Don't go inside, Will." Hannibal pulled him out gently. He blinked at the tower as it wrapped around his hand. The blood bloomed on it like poppy buds. Hannibal squeezed him to anchor his thoughts. "You will want to retreat, you will want it as the elusive urge draws us to jump from balconies, as the glint of the rails tempts us when we hear the approaching train." He held tighter like Will was about to be lost in the ceaseless waves. "Stay with me."

Will gripped back by reflex. "Where else would I go?" He looked up when Hannibal held him with both hands, dazed by the effusive way Hannibal looked back. There was no disguise, no mask. It was completely sincere. It was him denying it, refusing to believe it. He drew a breath, quavering. "Newborn birds follow whatever animal they meet first after they hatch. It is an instinct they can't fight."

"Like the magical juice of heartsease, making you fall in love with the first being you see after you wake." A charmed smile blossomed on Hannibal's face as if Will secretly smeared the love potion on his eyelids when he slept. Hannibal lowered his gaze before Will got overwhelmed, but his question next stirred Will's darkness again—"Did you fantasize you were killing me when you were killing Randall Tier?"

Will glanced at the corpse. "Yes." Clothes torn, hair tousled, the killer had been bruised and battered by his bare fist, completely vulnerable beneath him.

Hannibal helped him back with a stroke on his cheek, turning his head to him. "How did that make you feel?"

Will met Hannibal's eyes through his fluttering lashes. "Aroused."

It was easy and terrifying to see Hannibal's pupils devour his irises when their lips were only a breath away. Heat brewed between them. Will held his breath and broke their locked gazes at the very last moment.

"You put me in a cage with Randall Tier." He breathed shallowly. "You wanted us to kill each other. Like a dog fight. Like a gladiatorial show. The one who won would be your favourite."

Hannibal focused on him, but he fixed his eyes at the bandage on his knuckles. "Randall Tier would be sitting here and receiving your care if he had killed me."

Hannibal squeezed his hand again till he looked him in the eye. "I believed and I knew you would win."

Will wanted to draw out his hand, but he could only shiver. "You betrayed me. You betrayed my trust in you. You betrayed my love for you. How can I trust you again?"

"I love you, Will." Hannibal planted a kiss on the bandage, heavier than a lifelong vow. "You are not my Hera. You are my Persephone. Not even death could change my love for you."

It crushed the last doubt in Will's mind.

He grabbed back in dizziness, blinking away the tears in his eyes. "Hades abducted her, took her away from her life, and forced her to stay in the underworld with him."

Hannibal cupped his cheek, holding him firmly and gently as ever. "She ate the seeds willingly."

"She was tricked." Will reached to Hannibal, hand climbing up Hannibal's chest to his broad shoulders. "You are the serpent luring me to take the forbidden taste."

The blame ended as a kiss. Will could not tell if it was him or Hannibal, or if both of them initiated it. The electric touch struck him hard, but Hannibal's arms caged him before he could withdraw.

One hand stroking his back and one holding the base of his skull, Hannibal took Will's lower lip between his teeth and sucked in passion. Will struggled weakly with a tremble, his strength, his heart, and his soul were devoured at once.

He gasped in the heat overriding his mind, and Hannibal slid between the gap to invade him further, claiming every inch in his mouth. He gave a faint whimper when he tightened his fingers on Hannibal's collar, unable to breathe. The kiss relented as Hannibal released his tongue and licked his reddened lips softly, soothing him by caressing his nape.

"Will."

Will opened his eyes, caught by the burning desire in Hannibal's gaze.

Hannibal could captivate him like a moth again, but the man only looked at him, waiting.

Will had envisioned it before the night he suggested to resume their therapy. Getting a new haircut and cladding his body in more decent clothes, he had turned himself into perfect bait with glittering feathers and shells to capture Hannibal. Mind and body.

He smiled. "Take me to bed."

Hannibal carried him down the hallway away from the light.

Will made no struggle when Hannibal pushed him onto the bed, only tightening his grip on the man's arms with a surprised yell which put a wolfish smile on Hannibal's face.

Will closed his eyes as he expected a fierce kiss would come and swallow him. Instead Hannibal receded to take off their shoes and socks, and the kiss turned out to be a worshipful one alighted on his instep, painting a rosy tinge on his face.

Will struggled to shy away, and Hannibal crawled over him, silhouetted against the flickering light from the fireplace. In a hazy moment Will caught a glimpse of the wendigo. The forest of antlers loomed over him. The sharp claws grazed his cheeks. The insatiable hunger burnt in its bottomless eyes.

It was always a nightmarish sight to Will, and it always woke him up with tremor and sweat. But he had learnt its beauty and that it was the man he loved. He could not help but reached to Hannibal's face to bring him down, drowning himself in the dark, frozen waves.

He welcomed the kiss with parted lips, letting out a soft moan when the strong torso pressed him into the mattress, not even allowing him to writhe. It felt more like a settling and intimate embrace with Hannibal's fingers fondling his hair and his palm stroking his flank in a languid way. He shifted to lie more comfortably and hugged back, exploring the muscles on Hannibal's back through the layers.

Hannibal traced the curve of his lips before diving into his mouth, luring him into a passionate tango. Their tongues entangled with each other, the sparks arisen from each brush spread hot ripples across Will's whole body, which spurred the heat accumulating in his lower stomach to grow aggressively. His cock swelled and ached between his thighs. He wrapped his legs around Hannibal's waist to seek relieving friction. Hannibal pinned down his hip before he could grind against him. Will groaned but stopped as soon as Hannibal covered his groin with a teasing touch. Hannibal palmed his half-hardness at an agonizingly slow pace, making him pant in frustration.

"Don't torture me." Will struggled to thrust, unmovable under the firm hold.

"You are such a temptation to me. I cannot resist." Hannibal smirked against Will's neck and finally stopped the torment and peeled off Will's shirt, uncovering the lean body beneath to his roaming hands.

Hannibal toyed Will's nipple with his fingers. It swelled and reddened quickly, luring the cannibal to wrap his lips around it, sucking and nipping till Will whined helplessly.

Will had lost all his strength to fight. He only trembled when the lithe fingers brushed his hip and hooked away the last covering on his body.

"You are beautiful, Will." Hannibal held his cock in a firm grip, which made him tense further, blushing deeply. Hannibal stroked his shaft with fingertips and palmed his balls lightly, too lightly that it gave him nothing but a painful urge. Will struggled again and Hannibal punished him by brushing the base of his glans, making him whimper and dazed instantly.

"Fuck, please..."

"Anything you want, beloved." Hannibal rose to undress himself, fetching lube from the nightstand as he stood.

Will crawled up, enthralled. His fingers scratched the sheet beneath as he fought against the urges to touch and bury himself in Hannibal's bare chest, and he swallowed much harder when the last layer of clothes uncovered Hannibal's erection.

He had worried before that it was not going to work. He had never desired a man. Will had doubted that his body would react when confronted with another man’s cock, but now the carnal need coiled in his chest, his own cock twitching in the excitement stronger than ever.

"Hannibal." Will kissed the man and lay back under the light push. Hannibal went atop him, their cocks pressed together, he panted and parted his legs wider. Shame was no concern now.

"Will, have you been with a man before?" Hannibal asked between kisses while stroking away the tension on Will's thighs.

"You are my first." Will smiled with shyness, but he did not look away. "Tell me what I should do."

"You only need to relax. Leave everything to me." Hannibal crawled up and coated his fingers with the lube. He showed more tenderness when preparing Will, distracting him by crooning and kissing him.

Will soon begged for more as Hannibal teased his prostate with ghostly touches. "Get inside...like you get inside my mind and my heart."

Hannibal withdrew the fingers and positioned himself against Will's hole. Dull pain came along with a sweet kiss. Hannibal’s cock stretched Will much wider than the fingers had done. He whined as his body fought instinctively against the intrusion. It only made the pain worse.

"Look at me, Will. Concentrate on your breathing." Hannibal stayed still and stroked his face.

Will nudged the caring palm and did his best to breathe. He slowly adjusted to the thickness and gave in like he always did. He counted a few more breaths for his body to relax further before nodding slightly. Hannibal moved again, the twinge of discomfort faded as the cock slid deeper, the pleasurable friction and fullness made Will clutch it in eagerness, his own cock leaking already. Hannibal buried deep inside him. They were finally conjoined, melting and fussing into a whole.

Everything went blurred and dazzling like the old time, but the heat burned stronger than his encephalitis, leaving only instincts and desires in his mind.

Will squirmed, begging for more, the euphoric waves crushing his pleas into broken moans. Only the desperate calls for Hannibal were intelligible and meaningful in his rapid, panting breaths.

Hannibal shifted, and the new angle let him thrust deeper. Will sobbed, his hands clawing at the sheet, his hole quivering, and his cock leaking profusely, swollen and aching in pain.

"Please, Hannibal, please...make me yours."

"Your are mine already, Will. Body and mind and soul."

Hannibal thrust faster. Will cried out, he arched back and saw the wendigo again. It clawed open his chest and buried itself inside him. He embraced both its claws and love unconditionally.

When he came back from his mind, Hannibal had withdrawn and lain beside him, stroking his cheek, watching over him like the stag did.

"Hello, Will." Hannibal kissed him softly.

He beamed, pressing their foreheads together. "Hello, Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal's purr vibrated against his chest. "Lost in thought?"

Will made a sound between a laugh and a snort. "Nothing. Just went inside. Sorry."

"No need to apologize. You are back now." Hannibal combed Will's hair with his fingers as he looked at him. The morbid curiosity stirred in his eyes again. "What did you see?"

Will puffed and sprawled on the man, burying his face on Hannibal's chest. Warmth enfolded him. The settling breath and heartbeats anchored his mind.

It was unimaginable that he had hated this man so much and tried to kill him weeks ago. In this moment, the flowering love filled his heart completely, so profound that it pained him for knowing its inevitable fate similar to a kadupul flower.

Will breathed in bitterness. He embraced Hannibal harder.

"A void," he said with his eyes closed, focused on the wave-like beating of their hearts. "A dark sea. I drowned with you."  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

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Blood etched the ancient tusks protruding behind the man's upper lip. The long-dead beast stood proudly with the skin of the man which had granted it a new and powerful life, looming over them with its claw ready to slash.

Will approached. It landed its empty eyes on him and blinked in recognition.

_Hello again._

Will smiled faintly before Jack's voice broke his vision from behind—"His killer chose not to dispose of his body, but to display it."

Hannibal gave a pensive hum from another side, too close that Will needed not to strain his ears to catch the amusement beneath his words. "A jarring reminder of death's informality."

"Randall Tier was denied a respectable end that he himself denied others." Jack ground his teeth.

They had been only one step away from catching the killer. Will could understand his frustration. He had been there too. It was quite ironic that the killer he had wanted to kill was also standing a step away from him now.

"He isn't mocking him." He turned back. "This isn't disdain. He's commemorating him."

Hannibal's gaze locked with his. "This killer has no fear for the consequences of what he has done."

"No guilt." Lips twisted to hide his smirk, Will faced his work, fidgeting his glasses in his hands.

The beast woke from the worship. Hollow voice passed through Randall Tier's lip and its teeth like a wind from a chasm. It whispered to him, "The monument is not to me. It's to you. This is my becoming. And yours."

Will shook his head. "He knew his killer." He went back to Jack and Hannibal. "There is a familiarity here. It was someone who met him, understood him. It was someone like him. Different pathology, same instinct."

Kill.

His call to the stag resonated in both of their skulls.

"His killer empathized with him?"

"Don't mistake empathy for understanding, Jack. If there's anything, it's envy." He looked at the beast again. It had only taken a single night to become what it wanted, while he still felt like he was trapped in his cocoon. "Randall Tier came into his own much easier than whoever killed him."

"This is a fledgling killer." Hannibal stepped into his mind, nearly purring at him. "He has never killed before, not like this."

"No, not like this." Will blinked away the haunting ghost of Garret Jacob Hobbs. That was not his design. This was. "This is the nightmare that followed him out of his dreams."

Will grabbed Hannibal's lapels with all his strength. Even though what beneath them was the sofa and solid ground, and the older man had been holding his waist tightly with those strong and lethal arms, he was dizzy, drowning in the kisses he had initiated.

They had retreated to the living room after dining with countless euphemistic teases, when Will had no longer been able to bear the dark gaze of Hannibal and taken his place on Hannibal's thighs, sucking his lips like an addict with no self-control. Still, clearly he was not the only one laden with need. Hannibal returned the enthusiasm while stroking his cheek and hair, the tenderness of his hands contrasting with the passion of his kiss. They shared kisses between brief panting, gentle, fierce, pure, seductive.

Will had lost himself quickly in the aromas of blood and chocolate lingering on their tongue. He sought eagerly to taste the flavour again. Hannibal smiled against his lips, sliding a hand to his buttock and squeezed him, making him shiver and grind harder against the older man.

"Will." Hannibal nipped Will's lower lip with a frown and a sigh, his voice deep and heavily accented. "You are playing a dangerous game."

Will's heated brain could not tell if Hannibal was referring to Jack's and his game or his blatant seduction, especially when Hannibal was grabbing his bottom. He only gave a half-hearted hum, more interest in rubbing his half-hard cock against Hannibal's stomach.

The groan from Hannibal's throat was louder than he expected. He smirked. He pressed harder and unbuttoned his shirt, moaning softly as he played with his sensitive nipple under the lustful gaze. It was too successful. Hannibal bit his neck without warning.

The bite was not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make him jerk. He gasped and tensed instantly, trembling as the cannibal's teeth grazed on his skin, his cock pulsing in ache.

"What a naughty boy you are." Hannibal replaced his nibbles with tender kisses until Will could finally breathe. He held Will's nape, looking into his hazy eyes, fond and reproachful. "Why didn't you dispose of the body?" Oh, that. "It was the prudent course."

Hannibal disapproved as if he had never done an imprudent act like this—or like holding a dinner party full of human meat when knowing Jack had already harboured suspicion of his food.

Will pouted. "Randall Tier deserved to be seen."

Hannibal shushed and brushed away the tantrum on Will's lips. "Randall, or your work on him?"

Will watched the hands unfastening his belt as he breathed deeply. "You called it 'artistry.'"

"I also called it 'savagery.'" Hannibal unzipped Will's pants and palmed his clothed cock, lips curved upon seeing him shudder from the touch.

Will grabbed Hannibal's wrists, not knowing if he wanted to stop the lascivious hands or to guide them into his boxers. Words came and shattered in his mind. "The bird is leaving the nest... You cannot deny his instinct."

"A newly-fledged bird is at his most vulnerable. Still relies on his parents for food. He can fly, but he has to learn to hunt." Hannibal shifted and maneuvered Will into sitting on the sofa. He keeled between Will's thighs and pushed down the boxers, unbinding Will's cock which was already fully erected and glittering with precum.

"Hannibal...?" Will gasped as Hannibal's tongue flashed between his lips in hunger.

"Relax, Will. I will not hurt you." Hannibal stroked Will's inner thighs as he leaned closer to reassure him with kisses on his bare stomach. "You are the wrathful beast risen from the juniper tree. My little fledgling. My beloved mongoose." He alighted a kiss on Will's shaft, worshipful and tantalizing.

"And you are the devil haunting me. My loving mentor. My cruel beast." Will cupped Hannibal's face, pulling him up to kiss him keenly.

Hannibal stroked him as he knelt back, and held his hip tightly before leaning to his cock. Will moaned immediately when the hot tongue ran over his shaft to his head.

"Delicious." Hannibal lapped the precum and wrapped his lips around Will's tip, teasing him to leak uncontrollably.

Will grasped Hannibal's shoulders, struggling to escape and thrust, but the sudden brush under his glans crushed all his strength. He arched backwards, whining, "Yes, eat me, eat me..."

Hannibal took him in with deep, contented groans. He hollowed his cheeks when receding, his sharp teeth rubbed against Will's shaft dangerously, ready to chew, to crush, to swallow him raw.

Will ached harder with the morbid thought. He thrust into the madding mouth as soon as the restraint on his hip was lifted away. The long fingers slid between his thighs, one hand palming his balls slowly and one reaching behind them, drawing out his cry with a light stroke on his perineum.

Hannibal sucked and stroked faster to hear him cry again. Will choked in the pleasure. "Wait, I can't... I'll, ah!" He came hard and quick. Hannibal swallowed and licked away all of the drops before rising and kissing him contentedly, even though his own cock was still untouched.

"Will." He held Will's face when Will keeled on the rug, his eyes flooded with adoration. "You don't have to do this."

"But I want to." Will flashed him a smile and undid Hannibal’s pants. It was filthy and arousing that Hannibal was still in his immaculate suit when he had his swollen cock revealed and throbbing between his thighs.

Will took a breath and crawled closer. He had seen Hannibal's cock and been filled wholly by it, but he could not stop feeling curious and intimidated by the sight. He wrapped his fingers around it first, giving a few strokes tentatively. Getting bolder for the encouraging caresses on his hair, he slowly brought his lips to the wet head like placing a soft kiss on it. The musky scent perfumed his lips and tongue, much more enticing that he had expected, luring him to open wide and take the cock in.

Hannibal's thighs tensed under his palms, which he took as a praise. He stroked the shaft at the base and sank his head lower to swallow as much as he could. The invasion reminded Will of the tube Hannibal had forced down his throat. He fought away the memory. It was no longer a tube down his throat but Hannibal's cock, and he craved it and wanted it to fill him sweetly.

He groaned lightly as Hannibal tightened the grip on his hair, cock twisting and leaking on his tongue. He would be terribly wet as well if he had not come yet.

He grinned in his heart and rose to suck the head, running his tongue on the head, which made Hannibal hissed and pressed him back. He took the cock in gladly while reaching to the hefty balls, the same as Hannibal had done to him, rubbing his palms against them gently.

Hannibal warned him with a hitched breath. He stroked and swallowed deeper, the spurting cum ruptured into his throat. He nearly choked but managed to swallow it all.

"How was it?" He stood on wobbly legs and straddled Hannibal again, licking his lips clean.

"You are perfect." Hannibal nuzzled his cheek, heating his skin with heavy breath. "Did you take a trophy too?"

It took Will a moment to get back on track with the topic. "A memento of my first rodeo?" Like organs? Will laughed at how badly Hannibal wanted to corrupt him. "What do you think?"

Hannibal regarded Will with a smile on his lips. "I think it would be the act of a serial killer."

Will snorted and lifted himself away to tidy his clothes. "By definition, one body doesn't make me a serial killer."

  
Freddie Lounds' car stood in front of his house like the horse of death. There was no sign of her except a trail of footprints in the snow leading to his shed.

Will clenched his jaw. There had been too many animals that got lost on his land lately.

He pushed open the door. The faint daylight spilled in and penetrated the heavy drapes of old fishing nets, rusted chains, opaque plastic sheets, and the skeleton suit of Randall Tier. And there she was, a vexatious raccoon, startled and horrified, the pinkish human jaw falling from her hands and back into the freezer.

Perhaps Hannibal was right about the display of the corpse and his recklessness.

They could not be suspected again. Hannibal had painstakingly controlled Miriam Lass and framed Chilton as his scapegoat, while he had just been released from jail and regained Jack's trust, he could not let Freddie Lounds ruin it.

The most efficient way to remove this threat was to kill her.

He should, but...could he? She was not a murderer he would feel compelled to kill. He could justify that killing Randall Tier was a part of the plan to capture Hannibal. One call to Jack and she would leave them alone.

Will closed the door, killing the light.

Freddie Lounds aimed her revolver at him as he passed through the drapes, her trembling suppressed but still visible even in the dimness.

"There really is a very good explanation for all of this." Will gave her a twisted smile.

"I don't want to hear it."

"You're not the least bit curious?" He tempted in the same way Hannibal had done when facing his gun. It would work particularly well on people like Freddie Lounds, but not in a life-threatening situation.

"Get away from the door." Fear lay in her demand.

She never learnt. Even after being forced to assist with the mutilation of a man, she still could not learn the danger of serial killers. It was quite a mystery that she could manage to stay alive ‘til today. She even had pissed off Hannibal once, though it had been originally Jack's idea to use her to poke out the Ripper. Still, it seemed that luck was not favouring her today.

"I can't let you go, Freddie. Not without hearing what I have to say." He stepped closer, crooning in Hannibal's tones as if the doctor was speaking through his mouth. "I know you're scared. Only have to be scared just a little bit longer." He showed his empty palm, but his words remained a relentless order. "Give me the gun." He took another step and almost could reach and grab the gun—she fired.

Will dodged instinctively, the bullet dashed pass his ear and impaled the wall. Rays of light flooded through the hole, and he charged, pushing Freddie onto the shelf, the sound of gunfire ringing heavy through the air. Freddie Lounds did not have the strength to match his. He snatched the gun quickly, but she stomped his toes hard and shoved him away as he reflexively flinched . She scurried towards the light with Will chasing close behind.

He could not let her go. Look at her, look—how many lives had she ruined before? How determined was she as she wanted to ruin his life since the very beginning? He could not let her do so. He could not be caught again, not until he caught Hannibal first.

He stopped and took a shot at her calf. Blood exploded. Pain hauled her onto the ground and she screamed. She crawled desperately, the exit only inches away. She struggled like an insect—with limbs being torn away one by one as a sick amusement for bored children. Cruelty spread on Will's face.

Why had he been afraid of pulling the trigger when he had had the chance? Why had he been afraid of the ghost of Garret Jacob Hobbs? The one thing that truly bothered him was that it was not intimate enough.

His gaze searched and fixed on the glittering knife on the work table. He picked it up, sliding his gloved fingers across the lethal edge. The metal revealed a cold reflection of the beast as he strode to his prey.

"I've told you, it’s not very smart to piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living."

"I provide the ingredients—" Will took out the paper package along with onions, tomatoes, potatoes, and ginger from the grocery bag. He pushed the parcel to Hannibal who stood beside him with a hand rested on his lower back, right above his rear. He quirked his lips as Hannibal released him to inspect the gift closely. "—you tell me what we should do with them."

Hannibal slid the parcel closer to himself with a hum. His lithe fingers danced on the brown paper and unraveled the thread. The paper spread like a butterfly's wings, unveiling a loin of meat, fresh and slim.

"What is the meat?" Hannibal met his waiting gaze, smoothing the wrinkled paper in fake unawareness. Even if Hannibal could not see the excitement in his eyes, the unique scent of the flesh itself could already tell him what he was looking at.

"What do you think?" Will puffed.

"Veal?" Hannibal nuzzled his nose against Will's cheek instead. "Pork, perhaps."

"You know... ." Will brought up casually like he had lost interest in the topic. "Freddie Lounds was supposed to meet me this morning, but she didn't show up."

"Did she call?" Hannibal sniffed at his neck. He wondered if the cannibal could smell Freddie's blood on him even though he had taken a long shower.

"No, no phone call, no sign of her car, not even a strand of hair." Will tilted his head. "And strangely there've been wild animals getting into my house. A cave bear last week, and a red fox this morning."

Hannibal squeezed his arm slightly, eyes narrowed in forged alert. "Where did you get this meat from, Will?"

Will threw Hannibal a glance. "From the butcher. Where else could I get it? She was a slim, delicate pig."

Hannibal kissed his ear with teeth. "I will make you a pork lomo saltado. We will make it together." He drew out a knife and wrapped around the blade, handing it to Will daintily. "You slice the ginger."

Will stared, a smirk threatening to break his solemn face. "You will get caught if you continue like this."

"Like what? Asking my love to help me prepare dinner? Is there a law against it?"

Will snorted and took the knife. It was lighter than his hunting knife, but it showed the same reflection on the blade.

He prepared the ginger and other vegetables before seating himself on the chair to watch Hannibal transform the simple ingredients into a beautiful dish.

Sitting across from him at the dining table, silverware in hand, Hannibal waited for Will to eat the first slice of the meat before taking a bite of his own. He always watched the first bite. Will had once naively believed it was only for seeing his sincere enjoyment of the meal, totally unaware of the hidden intention under the dark eyes and the hidden truth under the sauce and seasoning. Knowing the truth had given a profound meaning to every meal they shared.

Will put the first piece into his mouth without breaking their eye contact, his lips lifting in a smile as he chewed the meat. The power of dominance coursed through his veins, stronger than what Randall Tier had bestowed upon him.

Hannibal beamed as well before having a taste of Will's kill. Hannibal let the taste of the flesh linger on his tongue as he tilted his head. "The meat has an interesting flavor. It is bracing. Notes of citrus."

Will took another forkful, pondering if it was another convoluted metaphor. "My palate isn't as refined as yours."

"Apart from humane considerations, it is more flavorful for animals to be stress-free prior to slaughter. This animal tastes frightened."

Of course she did after finding a human jaw and being shot for it.

Will stirred his wine glass, his lips perched on the rim, tugging up for the scream still singing in his ears. "What does 'frightened' taste like?"

Hannibal's gaze fixed at his Adam's apple and rose to his lips as he placed down his glass. "It is acidic."

Will licked his lips instead of dabbing at them with his napkin. "How about encephalitis?"

His genuine curiosity put a light curve on Hannibal's lips. "A fevered sweetness."

Will took another slice of meat with a noncommittal hum. He nudged Hannibal's trouser leg under the table. "We should hunt together sometime."

Hannibal blinked as he pretended to be vexed from the kick and considered the invitation despite the sharp glint in his eyes that betrayed his glee. "I thought you preferred fishing."

Will grinned. "Who says I can only have one habit?"

  



	4. Chapter 4

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Will woke from a chaotic yet peaceful darkness. The sunlight of Wolf Trap shone upon his eyelids, but he refused to open them, struggling under the blanket to turn his back to the window, his body sore for the intimate act of last night. He hummed with a smile while reaching to the other side of the bed. The sheet was still warm, but the welcoming arms and chest were not there waiting for him. Hannibal was always an early bird even during holidays. Will never knew how he could wake up with the sun.

Stretching to soothe away the tiredness, Will glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand and nuzzled his cheek against Hannibal's pillow, filling his nose with the lingering scents.

After several deep breaths, he rose and trudged down the stairs into the kitchen, wearing the same T-shirt and boxers he had worn yesterday.

Perhaps the sizzling sounds had masked Will's footsteps or the aroma of fried eggs and sausage had muffled his scent, and though Hannibal did not turn around even when Will sneaked up behind him, he did not stiffen at the sudden hug, as though he expected it to come.

"Good morning, Will."

"Morning." Will rested his chin on Hannibal's shoulder.

Hannibal turned his head slightly at him, sniffing. "Would you like to take a shower and change your clothes? Breakfast will be ready soon."

"Why do I need a shower and clean clothes when I will only get dirty again?" He drawled in Hannibal's ear and licked him mischievously. As composed as always, Hannibal only paused his hands for a split second in reaction.

"Be careful, Will, I am making you food."

"Yeah, eat me." Will pressed his whole body against Hannibal's back. Hannibal tensed, but in a strangely alert way. The abrupt noise of car engine broke the tranquility of the early morning.

Will frowned and Hannibal smiled, gloating at his annoyance. "It seems you have a visitor, dear."

Will expected it was Jack coming to drag him to a crime scene, but it turned out to be Alana.

As she approached the house with Applesauce in tow, his pack ran out to greet them. Will grabbed the collar of Winston who stayed beside him loyally, and he resisted the urge to call the other dogs back. He stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him.

Hannibal had told him he had talked to Alana after the break-up call out of courtesy. Will did not make any comment about it, but it annoyed him like a pestering fly.

Fists clenching tighter, he stared at Alana. Her soft eyes were bright under the sun and her smile looked like nectar of the sweetest flower. She was as lovely as the first time he had met her in a meadow of the campus when a beautiful hope like a breeze of early spring billowed his heart, which he could not find again—it was not she, but he who had changed.

Alana stopped before the porch. She looked up, ready to greet him, but her eyes widened as they reached his neck. He touched there subconsciously and hissed at the sudden twinge. Memories of Hannibal kissing and sucking and biting his neck flashed in his mind. He blushed and tried hard to school his expression, blaming Alana for her unannounced visit in his heart.

He grimaced. "Do we do friendly visits anymore?" The last time they had met they were also standing here; Alana forced him to promise Hannibal's safety, and he replied bitterly "safe from me or for you?"

He knew that was jealousy burning in his chest.

The remaining tinge of her smile faded like the final beam of light crushed by the ponderous night. "This isn't a friendly visit."

"What kind of visit is it?"

"I guess I'm trying to convince myself of something. Or maybe I'm trying to convince you." She searched his face as if trying to find the old him, the fragile, innocent pup. "Or maybe I don't know why I'm here."

"I know why," his empathy said. "You're worried I killed Freddie Lounds."

The bald branches of the trees creaked. Will’s breath formed a thin mist which quickly dissipated in the gales, but he did not waver.

"Did you?"

Winston leaned into his thigh with a whine as he gripped his collar harder. Will released it slowly and patted the mutt's head. "What do you think?"

"I think that's the wrong answer to tell somebody who is already wondering what you're capable of."

"Been wondering that for a while." There had been a certain look on her face when she had seen him through the iron bars. She had believed he was guilty. She still believed it now.

He released an hysterical laugh. "Why don't you come in and search for her body? Better look at my fridge and my garbage. Perhaps I am eating her. But what could you do even if you found a piece of her? I told everyone Hannibal was a killer and no one believed me. Just like no one would believe you if you said I was a killer."

She gaped at him, chilled by his harsh words.

The door cracked behind Will, and before he could react, Hannibal's coat swathed around his cold torso with a peck on his cheek.

"You would catch a cold if you continued standing outside like this, dear."

"Hannibal?" Alana squeaked. She peered at Hannibal's disheveled hair and ill-fitting clothes from Will's closet before looking at the hickeys on Will's neck. Realization struck her. "You slept with him?" She glared at both of them and then Hannibal only. "I said it is ridiculous to have him be your patient again and you know what is worse? Sleeping with him!"

"Will has stopped paying me. I am no longer his psychiatrist." There was an unconcealed smugness in Hannibal's tones. "We are merely having conversations like the old times."

"He almost killed you."

"I don't want to kill him anymore," Will grinned, "'cause I want to kiss him more."

"Will." Alana caught his wrist and pulled him off of the porch. He winced at the snow freezing his bare feet and again at his urge to break her arm.

"I'm afraid, Will. But not of you. I'm afraid for you." She released his tense arm and looked into his eyes with sincere concern. "I don't think Hannibal is good for you. I think your relationship is destructive."

Will's jaw clenched like he was preparing to bite. "Hannibal's good enough for you."

He stormed off and dragged Hannibal back into the house, slamming the door behind them.

"You are rude when you are controlled by anger." Hannibal sat beside him, stroking his ruffled curls.

Will puffed and leaned into Hannibal's arms. "I'm controlled, as you say."

Hannibal nuzzled his cheek against Will's. "Do you want to kill her?"

A simple, fast twist on the neck. She would die without any pain. Will shook his head. "She...was my friend."

"You are still upset with her even though you know I will never have any feelings for her."

"Threatened, more precisely." Will straightened himself to look at Hannibal's eyes. "She came here because she thinks I killed Freddie Lounds."

"There is no evidence against you. You have no reason to be afraid, Will." Hannibal gave him a reassuring kiss. "You have me beside you."

  
Fire lit Will's eyes and died gradually, revealing two tiny golden birds with crispy skin and melting fat. He looked up curiously as Hannibal took the seat across him.

"Among gourmands, the ortolan bunting is considered a rare-but debauched delicacy. A rite of passage, if you will. The songbird is drowned alive in Armagnac, then roasted and consumed whole in a single mouthful."

Will frowned. "Ortolans are endangered."

It was absurd that he thought eating a bird was far more questionable than eating a human being. But if he was asked which was worse in his eyes—killing a dog or killing a person—he would choose the former one without hesitation. He smiled cruelly as Hannibal did.

"Who amongst us is not?"

"I haven't been gorged, drowned, plucked, and roasted." He raised a brow at Hannibal’s dark gaze. "Not yet."

He kicked Hannibal's leg despite what he said. Hannibal smiled and reached to pick up a bird by its head, eyes burning in hunger. "Shall we?"

Will took his own, already craning his neck before he brought it to his mouth. The smell filled his nose and the warmth radiated from the flesh heated his lips. "Bones and all?"

"Bones and all." Hannibal parted his lips and Will followed closely.

It scorched his tongue once he took it in. The blistering liquor and juice burst with the flavour as he crushed it with his teeth. He nearly choked, breathing hard in the heat and the intoxicating scent, eyes closed when he swallowed the life with a faint groan he failed to suppress. A shiver rippled through his body, and heat spread quickly to his groin.

Hannibal opened his eyes after savouring his own bite and his nostrils flared. Will's excited scent must have reached him, though he said nothing. "After my first ortolan, I was euphoric." He purred and dabbed his lips with his napkin. "A stimulating reminder of our power over life and death."

Will turned to watch as Hannibal walked to him. "I was euphoric when I killed Freddie Lounds."

"Did your heart race when you murdered her?"

"No." Will breathed in a shudder when Hannibal brushed the hair on his nape.

"A low heart rate is a true indicator of one's capacity for violence. One might say you are genetically predisposed to it." Hannibal kneeled between his thighs, kissing his healed knuckles. "You are evolving. Your choices affect the physical structures of your brain."

"Killing's changed the way I think."

"You must understand that blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel your radiance. Just as the source of light is burning." Before Will could digest the meaning behind this sensual meal, Hannibal unzipped Will’s pants and consumed him whole.

Light broke the darkness. Her skin, her flesh, her fat, and her bones burnt wildly in the death, transforming into a new form of life. A beautiful beast rose from the golden flames and the charred corpse.

Freddie Lounds was buried and dug back up within a day, resurrected as a goddess.

Will studied the corpse behind his glasses. It whispered to him in the brightening flames. He frowned, as confused and surprised as Jack and Alana were at the tableau before them, but he excluded nothing when Alana turned to him. Twelve hours ago she had asked him why he had shown up at Freddie Lounds' funeral, and now a deeper suspicion resided in her eyes. Will did not say a word.

"First he burns effigies, then he assembles them," Jack said in frustration.

"Burning Freddie Lounds wasn't his first effigy." Alana shook her head. "Whoever killed Freddie killed Randall Tier. Mutilated him, dismembered him, put him on display."

Jack looked at her. "What connection do Freddie Lounds and Randall Tier have?"

"Will."

Their eyes turned to him. The anger had burnt inside him when he had been wrongfully accused relit in his chest, though Alana was right about him this time.

"Randall Tier was his suspect and Hannibal's patient." She wielded her words, eyes piercing through his glasses. "Freddie was investigating his murder when she died."

"Freddie was investigating a lot of things when she died." He bit his lips hard, but he could not help it—"Are you slandering me because I've stolen your boyfriend?" He struck back childishly, stinging and shocking her. Still he found no desire to apologize.

Snow struck Maryland as a heavy, unforgiving storm. It dampened Will in the short distance between his car and Hannibal's front door. Hannibal urged Will to take a shower once he saw him, tutting like Will had brought a muddy pup here to ruin his mat and floor.

"Where have you been, Will?" Hannibal placed down the clean clothes and sniffed at Will's neck. A mild frown surfaced on his face. "You smell of rotten meat and decaying bones."

"Cemetery." Will shrugged off his shirt and ruffled his hair to a more disordered state.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

Will rolled his eyes. "Freddie Lounds." He tossed away his pants and boxers and left them for Hannibal to gather before he stepped into the shower cubicle.

"What happened to Freddie Lounds?" Hannibal's light voice almost got lost in the pelting water.

"You tell me."

"Unfortunately, I was not there with you." Of course Hannibal was disappointed that he could not see Will's first reaction to his work.

Will snorted while rubbing his face. "You know what is worse than death? Being eaten by a cannibal or being dug out from your own grave. Or both."

"It seems that she can never rest in peace." Hannibal made no effort to hide his smirk. "What did you see, Will?"

Will sighed for their never-ending game. He squinted, looking through the waterfall of the shower-head. Flames flared and the arms of fire bloomed like a peacock's tail. "Shiva."

A pair of hands caught his waist from behind, making him stiffen instantly.

"There is no need to fear, Will." Hannibal crooned in the returning sound of water, his bare chest pressing against Will's back, warm and comforting. "Shiva is a destroyer and a benefactor. That is not the same killer."

Will turned around with quirked lips. "It's someone who admires his destruction." He left his arms on Hannibal's shoulders, leaning to him like he wanted to see the galaxies in those dark eyes. "He wants to guide him. He wants to court him."

Hannibal tugged him closer and endowed him with fire-like kisses.

The water stopped. Will's shallow breath echoed in the confined space.

Hannibal lathered Will. Will turned as Hannibal spoke to him. Hannibal’s hands chased the drops of water cascading down Will's back, pausing their exploration to squeeze suggestively at his bottom.

"Where is the gentleman who only dares to touch my shoulders?" Will smirked even though Hannibal could not see it.

He could not be blamed for not noticing Hannibal's feelings for him. The doctor had been incredibly stoic, his fingers never touching him by accident when handing him things or when helping him take off his jacket. Before they started having sex, the most forward contact Hannibal had made was a consoling grip on his shoulder.

Will leaned into the hands that were spreading his buttocks. Hannibal's cock pressed against his hole, hard and ready to fill him.

Will could not say Hannibal was not gentle with him. Hannibal always was, even more so now, and he was very passionate. He liked touching, snuggling, hugging, kissing, and, of course, fucking him. They had sex every time they visited each other, which meant nearly everyday, and at least twice a day if that was a holiday. Will was not sure if that was a lot as he could use one hand to count his former lovers, and not all of the relationships had lasted long enough for sex to happen. He was not complaining though. He had the same desperate urge. He wanted to hold Hannibal closer, he wanted Hannibal stay inside him forever, he wanted them to conjoin and never be parted.

Each stroke, each kiss, each drag, and each thrust strengthened their bond and deepened their love. He could not be separated from Hannibal now. He wished that time could stop and freeze them in these beautiful, fragile moments.

Will whirled around, their cocks brushed each other, but he focused simply on their kiss.

Water fell upon them again. Hannibal rubbed away the pearly bubbles on Will, though it was again an excuse to tease his body. Hannibal mouthed his nipple and stroked his cock while reaching to his hole. Will feigned a protest, but the older man only stopped when he was aching painfully.

"Let's dry off first, beloved."

"And now you are a gentleman."

Once they were dry Hannibal cornered Will before the counter, nipping his ear and grinding against his butt. Will caught sight of himself in the mirror, flushed deeply, his hair rumpled and his lips swollen. He watched his nipple being played in Hannibal's hand, and his cock leaked shamelessly.

The sudden glimpse of himself in such a state struck Will poorly. Though Hannibal kept a large mirror opposite his bed, Will had never had the chance nor desire to watch himself in the throes. He tensed and shied away, blushing deeper, struggling in acute embarrassment. "Go, go to bed, Hanni."

"Let me have you here." Hannibal grabbed his ass cheeks again and reached for the lube on the countertop.

"But I'm tired."

Hannibal chuckled at his lame excuse. "You are only shy." He kissed his shoulder. "Open your eyes, Will. You are not aware of how beautiful you are." Another kiss. "You are heartbreaking."

Will shook his head, gaining himself a fond sigh.

"I thought you were no longer a shy pup." Hannibal nuzzled Will's curls with his nose as he touched Will's entrance, massaging the muscles gently.

Will shivered and forgot to struggle. He bucked back as he rested his palms on the edge of the counter, breathing out weak noises. The touches felt more intense when he kept his eyes shut.

He soon relaxed at the familiar sensation, and he tensed again when an electrified spark rose inside him. He clenched around the fingers but Hannibal withdrew and stepped away quickly. Cold surrounded Will.

"Don't go." Will opened his eyes in slight panic. He wanted to turn around but Hannibal held him, kissing his neck while calling his name softly.

Hannibal squeezed and spread Will again, cock coated in lube and pressed against his hole, filthy and tantalizing. Will leaked out more, moaning as Hannibal buried inside him and made them whole.

"Look at you, Will." Hannibal kissed Will’s neck while stroking his cock.

Heat spread under the teasing and soared inside Will, completely unbearable to his heated mind. He whined and wiggled weakly.

Hannibal shushed Will, not relenting. He licked the back of Will's ear and quickened the stroke, making Will's legs wobble. "Open your eyes. Let me see you."

Will had no strength to fight anymore. He looked at his trembling body, his cheeks only too red to blush deeper for the shame. He averted his gaze immediately, seeking Hannibal's eyes in instinct. He found them next to his reddened ear, where Hannibal looked back intently, dressed in the dark ink and the crown of antlers again.

The claws smeared blood on Will’s skin. Hannibal turned into a shade, a wave, embracing him and seeping under his skin.

He whimpered as Hannibal thrust harder. The next second he saw another image. A grotesque and beautiful sight of them melted and reformed together, back to the time when humans still had two heads, two pairs of arms, and two pairs of legs, when two souls lived in the same body before the fearful god split them and scattered them apart.

"Don't leave me, Hannibal, never leave me." He choked, not even realizing he was pleading.

Hannibal held him tighter. "Never. I am always here with you. Don't go inside."

"I see us, together... ."

"Good. Now stay with me."

"I...I can't, too much." Will's arms went limp and he fell onto his elbows, his toes curling and his hands scratching the smooth surface of the counter blindly.

"Then come for me, Will." Hannibal thrust harder and Will did. He came in Hannibal's hand with a cry, and Hannibal soon followed him, claiming his body with his seed once again.

Will must have drifted in Hannibal's arms as the older man helped him to clean himself properly this time. He vaguely remembered Hannibal drying his body and lifting him up. When he stirred, he had been tucked in and Hannibal was sitting beside him, still undressed like him, hand moving slowly on the sketchbook on his bent legs.

Will stretched with a yawn and crawled up. "Drawing me again?"

Hannibal gave him a smile and the sketch. "Achilles Lamenting the Death of Patroclus." He draped an arm around Will's shoulders to bring him closer til his cheek nudged Will's curls. "Whenever he is mentioned in the Iliad, Patroclus seems to be defined by his empathy. He became Achilles on the field of war. He died for him there, wearing his armor." He found Will's hand, and Will interlaced their fingers together, squeezing back. Hannibal looked weakened, vulnerable with his bare heart. "Achilles wished all Greeks would die so that he and Patroclus could conquer Troy alone. Took divine intervention to bring them down."

Beneath the ambition and hope, the intense feeling in Hannibal's eyes pained Will deeply.  
  
"This isn't sustainable." Will's eyes escaped to the fireplace before the bed. His smile faded. "We're going to get caught."

Hannibal nodded solemnly. "Jack Crawford already suspects you killed Freddie Lounds."

"If Jack told you he suspects me, it means he suspects you."

"I know."

Will breathed with a lump in his throat. Freddie Lounds was the bane of their lives even when she was dead. No...she would still be a problem even if he had not killed her. She knew he killed Randall Tier and she would not believe any explanation.

Freddie Lounds. Randall Tier. A lie upon a lie. A betrayal upon a betrayal. Fields of bones and rivers of blood. He had gone further and further away from the path he should take—from what he should do.

He still had time. It was not too late to turn back.

_Remember why you are here._

"You should give him what he wants." He forced the words out of his parched throat.

"Give him the Chesapeake Ripper?" Hannibal sounded surprised, like a well-fed cat being asked to hunt for survival.

Will continued looking at the dying fire. "Allow him closure. Reveal yourself. He deserves to know whose cave he's ventured into before he dies."

Hannibal studied the shadows of the fire. Will closed his eyes, his heart beating quickly. Hannibal's answer crushed his impractical hope.

"A farewell dinner."

"Jack won't be easy to kill." It swept through his trembling lips like a poisonous fog. His breath hitched at the betrayal, but his voice continued, as if another soul residing in his body were speaking through his mouth. "He'll be armed. He's strong, well-trained. We can't hesitate." He buried his face on Hannibal's shoulder, searching for an escape. But from whom, he had no clue.

"We will kill him in the dining room," Hannibal said.

Will leaned into the palm on his cheek, lifting his face towards Hannibal's lips._ Seal the deal. Sell your soul. Once you are content with this life, you will be his forever._ "It'll be our last supper."

"Of this life." Hannibal pressed their foreheads together. They looked deeply into each other's souls.


	5. Chapter 5

#  
  


"Hannibal's invited me to dinner." Jack pushed the invitation card across the desk to Will.

The handwritten words looped and twined in elegance like slithering snakes with death underlying the colourful scales. Will's lashes barely fluttered.

"I'll be wearing a wire. I'll have riflemen on rooftops of neighboring houses. Sight lines to all windows."

The sight of one of the infinite possibilities of their future flashed in Will's mind like a livid lighting—it was nothing like his old dreams of strangling Hannibal in a tree or his recent fantasies of choking him in their bed—_the bullet slashed the air, and before the sound of the shattered window could reach their ears, it struck into Hannibal's skull with no hesitation. The silverware fell from Hannibal's hands. His blood splashed over Will's face. His life, his memories, and his soul splintered into meaningless flesh and pieces, and his love, his love dedicated to Will would die in his widened eyes. The last thing he would perceived would be the painful betrayal of Will._

Will clenched his fists, his heart, which never faltered in killing, now beat frantically against his trembling ribs. His eyes fled to the empty chair beside him, where Hannibal had sat the first time they met.

The bright light of the room faded into gloom, the pinboards that once were paved with the photos of the missing girls now had only flaking pieces, and the hot, piquant taste of coffee on his lips spoiled to a copper stench. _Hannibal lay at his feet, cold and unresponsive. Blood spread beneath his feet like a dark mirror reflecting the view of hell._

"He'll try to kill you in the kitchen, for convenience." From a distance he heard himself say it. His face contorted into a weak smile. "Make it easier to prepare the tartare."

Jack's eyes darkened. He stared at Will like a headsman. "Hannibal thinks you're his man in the room. I think you're mine."

Will looked at the vision of Hannibal and into his desolate eyes.

"When the time comes," said two voices blending together, "will you do what needs to be done?"

The faint violin piece vibrated through the door into the waiting room. None of the notes could get into Will's ears. Jack's voice rattled in his head.

He slouched on the couch, elbows on thighs, hands gripping and pulling his hair, but the voice continued asking and chiding his undecidedness. He must make a choice. But he couldn't.

He struggled like a puppy being called from opposite sides, one with food and caring and one with leash and punishment. He knew to whom his heart belonged, but he should not in good consciousness follow it.

Will straightened himself strenuously. He reached into his pocket for the umpteenth time. The hard edge of the coin grazed his fingers when he finally took it out. He thumbed the carving. For once, fate truly lay in his hands.

If he could not decide, then leave it to the unbiased, merciless physics and probability.

Heads would be Hannibal and tails would be Jack.

A 50-50 chance. Simple and cruel. Independent of life and death, of evil and justice, of past and future.

No, heads be Jack and tails be Hannibal.

Decided.

Will flicked his thumb. The coin spun in the still air like the wheel of fate, heads and tails merged into one. It froze at the peak and fell. Will caught and pressed it onto the back of his left hand. The unnatural coldness eroded his skin.

Heads be Hannibal and tails be Jack.

He closed his eyes and breathed. Trembling, he pried open his fingers one by one.

The door before him cracked in his thundering heartbeats.

"Will?"

Will jumped as his heart leaped, coin back to his palm. The futures remained overlapped as he pushed it back into his pocket.

"Hey." He greeted Hannibal weakly.

"I saw your car. Did I miss your knocks?" Hannibal smiled at him softly as always.

He was a cannibalistic killer. He cared for no one. He killed Abigail. He killed Beverly. And he would never stop.

Will smiled as well. "Came too early. Didn't want to disturb you."_ I missed you._

"My door is always open for you. Come in, Will."

Will expected his numb legs would be unbudged, but they moved without him even realizing, bringing him into Hannibal's arms. The familiar warmth and cologne calmed his heart once they enveloped him.

Hannibal welcomed him with a kiss and nipped his neck playfully when helping him to take off his scarf and coat. He laughed and dodged away, nearly stepping on the paper on the floor. He blinked at the untidiness. An apology rose in his throat but his observant eyes were faster—papers were everywhere, some covering the chairs and the chaise, some lying on the rugs, and more were scattered over the floor like unwanted leaves in autumn, only covered with handwritten words instead of withering veins.

Even his empathy could not catch up at the moment. "What, what are you doing?" As he looked back, Hannibal was already on the ladder, climbing back to the balcony already bereft of books.

"Tidying up. I do not need the notes of my patients anymore." Hannibal threw down more paper. "Deleted copies in the computers could be dug out and recovered—which is why I avoid using them—and shredded paper can be reassembled. Only fire is irreversible. All the information would be lost in it like being lost in the devouring stars. Nothing left except ashes and the orchestral composition of carbon and hydrogen."

"I never knew you could make a poem about how you get rid of your evidence." Will mumbled as he collected a handful of the journals to feed the fire which swirled more riotously. "Won't your patients need these after you're gone?"

"The FBI will pore over my notes if I left them intact. I would spare my patients that scrutiny." Hannibal called Will and dropped a hardcover notebook into his hands carefully.

The pages flipped in the air and revealed a familiar and strange drawing. Will stared, absorbed by the disordered clock. "These are your notes on me." He ran his fingers on the paper, barely touching it as it looked too frail that could even be broken by a glimpse, but he could not refuse to take a look. Though it was about him, it felt like he was peeping at Hannibal's diary, and it _was_ a diary.

_Will asked me to feed his dogs as he was outside the state for a case, which I agreed immediately, glad that he trusts me enough to allow me to take care of his family. I hope one day I can get into his heart like I can get into his house._

_Will was particularly upset tonight, lost in his and the killer's minds, not uttering a word. The lingering shadows under his unfocused eyes were darker than the last time I had seen him. I have chided him several times for his lack of self-care, still it seems my words are too weak to his obstinacy. I suggested we could end earlier and he could take a rest on the couch to lessen his tiredness before he drove back home. He widened his eyes at me like a scared rabbit. I hardly had the strength to refrain myself from kissing him._

_Will smiled at me today. Sadly it is a rare thing even though he trusts me like an old friend now. I would like to encourage him to smile more, since when he does it, he looks younger, carefree. The constant anxiety and weariness on him will evaporate. His brows will unknot and his eyes will sparkle like sapphires under sunlight. And every time he curves his lips into a smile, I see Cupid's bow and his golden arrow. I would not mind if he wanted to strike my heart everyday, every moment._

Oh god. He couldn't, he couldn't... .

"Will?" Hannibal was standing beside him now with a hand stretched to the book which he clutched to his chest instantly. "Can I keep it?" He stammered, unable to look at Hannibal, who seemed to be misinterpreting it as his shyness and stroked his cheek with a fond smile.

"If you want to."

Will nodded and turned away to place the book on Hannibal's desk, fighting against his welling tears. He hoped the burning scent would cover his smell.

The fire burnt higher when he could turn back. Hannibal focused on its flicking tips.

"I am dismantling who I was and moving it brick by brick." Hannibal tossed the paper into the fiery mouth piece by piece. He suddenly looked far away. "When we have gone from this life, Jack Crawford and the FBI behind us, I will always have this place."

Will swallowed before he said, "In your memory palace?"

"My palace is vast, even by medieval standards. The foyer is the Norman chapel in Palermo, severe and beautiful and timeless, with a single reminder of mortality: a skull graven on the floor."

The skeleton prayed beneath their feet. All the paper and fire and darkness were gone. When Will raised his head, the sacred light of the sun lit the golden mural and shined upon them. He breathed in the air of Italy. The music of choirs and bells resonated in the chapel. He blinked. Fire continued illuminating the room.

"If I am ever apprehended, my memory palace will serve as more than a mnemonic system. I will live there."

Will froze. He wondered if Hannibal had discovered it, if he was testing him, or if he was still unaware of his looming fate.

"Could you be happy there?"

"All the palace chambers are not lovely, light and high. In the vaults of our hearts and brains, danger waits. There are holes in the floor of the mind." And there would be Will lingering in his rooms, betraying him again and again. If he was not killed on that night.

No matter how clever he was, no matter how strong he was, he could not fight the bullets. He would die like Garret Jacob Hobbs, staring at Will in the unimaginable pain of his broken heart, staring at him as if he was the one who shot him.

The world would be safe from the killer but insufferable to Will. He would live with his soul torn in half. Hannibal would haunt him every second, asking him why he did not choose him. They could have a happy life together, yet he ruined it by his own hands.

It would be too late to change his mind, too late to say he loved him.

"It is a trap," he said, trembling. "There'll be snipers aiming at all the windows. Jack will try to entrap you and shoot you. It is our plan. Everything was my plan." He suppressed a sob. Hannibal did not say a word and did not move an inch. "Using me as the bait to catch you. I suggested it to Jack after he caught Chilton. He doesn't believe Chilton is the Ripper. He came to me and I offered him the plan.

"I tell myself I want to catch you, I keep telling myself you are a monster and everything I do is for justice, for Abigail, for Beverly, for all the people you killed. But that was...that was only an excuse. I wanted to go back to you. I want to kill. I want to love you... I love you. I love you."

He staggered back, wiping his eyes, but his tears could not stop. "Leave, Hannibal. Don't hold the dinner, don't fight Jack, don't stay; you will die. There's no escape but death. Leave now, kill me and leave as far away from here as possible. Don't let them find you."

"Will." Hannibal touched his dampened face. He allowed Hannibal to guide his chin up, unresisting, ready for a slicing scalpel or a choking hand. But none of that came, only gentle strokes wiping away his tears.

"Open your eyes."

He shook his head weakly.

"I don't need a sacrifice, do you?"

Will shook again, not trusting his voice.

"Will, please, look at me." Hannibal kissed his twisted brows.

Will's eyelids fluttered in fear which was quickly soothed by the tenderness. He slowly open them. Tears were still falling and blurring his eyes, but he could see it clearly—Hannibal looked at him, eyes burning in flames, but there was no anger, no disappointment, there was only love, the unconditional, indefinite love for him.

"We could disappear now. Tonight." Hannibal kissed his cheek and brought him into his arms. "Feed your dogs. Leave a note for Alana, and never see her or Jack again. Almost polite."

Will clutched at Hannibal's back. His tears had stopped, though his wet cheeks soiled the fabric as he buried his face on Hannibal's shoulder.

Hannibal breathed with him. Will listened to the cracking fire and their synchronized heartbeats. Nothing in this world mattered now. "Where are we going?"

Hannibal held him tighter with a kiss planted on his forehead. "Florence."  
  



End file.
